


Hello Again

by LyraDraconis (NamiSwaannn)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bibliophiles, Draco Malfoy is a Tease, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Hermione Granger Is Oblivious, Hermione is a go getter, Libraries, Malfoy Manor, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Pining, Polyjuice Potion, Ridiculously Expensive Wine, Romance, Sapiophiles, So is draco, kind of, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamiSwaannn/pseuds/LyraDraconis
Summary: Hermione has found a way to get what she has wanted for years. It only took a bit of deception. Nothing illegal of course. Well, not really. It's a really good idea too. Too bad Draco Malfoy is doing his best to ruin it. Even if it's not on purpose.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 102
Kudos: 397





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I discovered dramione fics in December of last year and haven't been able to let go ever since. I love it so much and really wanted to contribute to the fandom. I even made a new pseud just for dramione. 😄 This is not my first fic but it's my first for this fandom. I hope I do it justice and I truly hope you enjoy!

Hermione's heart was nearly beating out of her chest in excitement. She took a deep calming breath, willing her body to calm down but it was hopeless. She was too bloody excited.

After years of longing with no hope of actually achieving it, she was finally going to see it. She stared at the imposing ebony double doors for a moment before turning the ornate gold handle of the left and pushing it open. 

She entered the room, took one look and sighed deeply with reverence. She couldn't believe she was actually here. She closed the door, leaned against it and smiled with the unbridled glee of a child looking at the exact gift they begged and pleaded their parents to get them for Christmas.

Through an act of nefariousness she hadn't employed since her days in Hogwarts, which was the creation and use of her own fairly potent brew of polyjuice potion, Hermione finally achieved the impossible. She was now standing in the famous Malfoy library and it was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. 

And it was all thanks to no other than Malfoy himself when he made a random announcement after the quarterly interdepartmental meeting at the ministry last month. For all who was present to hear, he told them about the beginning of a series of benefit galas that would be hosted at his manor every month. Each gala would be a fundraiser for a different organization in need in all areas of wizarding.

The organizations would benefit every marginalized wizarding group from various magical creatures, muggle borns and even squibs. Despite herself, Hermione was somewhat impressed. However, she had no doubt this was a ploy to help distance themselves furthur from the negative and dark stain their alliance with Voldemort had left on their family name. 

It had been five years. Lucius was still in Azkaban and would be for the rest of his life. Ever since his sentencing, Malfoy and his mother participated in many acts of philanthropy throughout the years. She was never sure if it was because of a court ordered mandate for them to pay restitution, for the sole purpose of restoring themselves as a powerful family once again or a combination of both. The idea of their charity being genuine never crossed her mind. 

They would have food, drink, and tours of the manor would be provided. All was welcomed to come he had said, looking directly at her before looking away. It was a natural move. He was in the process of sweeping everyone with his gaze. His gaze just happened to sweep over her as he stated the last part. She was sure there was no significance to it even though it was almost like he was directing that statement at her. An impossible notion, of course. She didn't even bother to consider it. 

While their relationship, if one could call it that, was for the most part civil, aside from the snark and thinly veiled insults they would throw at each other when they happened upon each other in the hallways on rare occasions, they were not in the least bit friends. 

She would even admit that the Malfoy she knew today had grown leagues away from the pointy faced twat he was in school. But still. He was _Malfoy_. 

Even if all was welcomed, including muggle-borns like herself, she just couldn't seem to bring herself to go to his home, the place she was tortured, as Hermione. But she could go as someone else entirely. 

Hence she concocted a plan to attend these parties without the heavy weight of her true identity. 

She thought it was a good plan, albeit with some flaws. One being the appearance of an unknown witch mingling amongst a relatively small and close knit society of witches and wizards. The degree of separation between everyone in the wizarding world was not very large. Everyone knew someone who knew someone and so on. 

However, if she kept to the plan to keep her mingling to a minimum and drew very little attention to herself, everything should go smoothly. At least that is what she told herself. 

She managed to snatch a strand of hair off the jacket of a random woman in muggle London. An average looking woman that one wouldn't pay much heed to when lost in a crowd and picked a modest cut dress in muted colors to help in her attempts at blending in. 

And here she was! 

Finally in the place she only heard stories about and could only dream of someday seeing for herself. 

She could nor would ever come out and just ask Malfoy if she may one day see his library, which was by far a more simple and much less duplicitous way of getting her wish aside from the fact that she occasional, though rarely, still had nightmares about his home. Aside from that, her asking such a request would only give Malfoy even more ammunition for his sarcastic remarks that would undoubtedly target her bookworm tendencies and all around "swottiness". 

Not only that, but she would have to ask Malfoy for a favor. Malfoy. 

She refused.

So coming under false pretenses was of course, the only alternative. At least that was what she convinced herself. 

She came out of her reverie to really look around herself. No time for ruminating. Now was the time to celebrate her victory. 

She took a few steps in as if entering a church for the first time. She guess on some level it was. If she worshiped any god it would be the god of knowledge and their presence was all throughout the room. That tingly feeling she felt when she was about to see something new sprouted in her belly. 

She smiled to herself. _The Church of Malfoy._ She giggled. Blasphemy. 

She walked a few more steps taking it all in. The room was nearly four times the size of her entire flat with high vaulted ceilings allowing for there to be two levels complete with a spiral staircase. Every wall from ceiling to floor was lined with books save for a marble fireplace and curtained French doors that led to an outdoor area. 

The ground level was tastefully decorated with opulent Persian rugs, plush leather couches, and lavish end tables topped with stain glass lamps reminiscent of Tiffany's. The fireplace was already crackling with a warm fire giving the room, despite its luxuriousness, a cozy air. She could not wait to curl up on a couch with a stack of books. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and smiled serenely. Old leather and aged parchment. Two of her absolute favorite smells. She walked slowly to the nearest bookshelf, gently running her fingers over the spines, already seeing four books she would like to pull out. Where does one start when one finds paradise? 

She decided to start where she was and work her way around the ground level shelves. She frowned. There was no way she was going to make it around even a quarter of the room with the limited time she had. 

She pulled out a pocket watch from her clutch. She had managed to tweak her brew of polyjuice to last four hours rather than just the standard one hour that most potioneers capable of brewing the complicated potion could achieve. She had a little under three hours left. That wasn't enough time to get through one bookshelf knowing herself.

She frowned as she thought about what shaved her time down. 

She hadn't paid much attention last time she was at the manor, what with the torture and terror and all. She hadn't really appreciated the sheer enormity that was the Malfoy residence. 

The manor was a monstrosity of sitting rooms, parlours, dining rooms, drawing rooms, studies and ballrooms. And that was just one floor of one wing. Why should anyone need more than one ballroom, she'll never know. She hadn't anticipated the tour would take close to an hour. She would have to keep that in mind since she was planning to attend every gala as a different person. She would have to stay for the tour for newcomers each time she came. It would not only be rude if she didn't participate but would also draw attention to herself if she chose to forgo the tour when no one else did. 

Her frown turned into a wry smile. Well, regardless of the the effort she'd have to put in to do it and the risk she would have to take, she will keep coming back until she got her fill. This was an opportunity she could not allow herself to squander. 

And she will have plenty of chances. A benefit every month, he said. Just enough time to brew a new batch. And with the prospective frequency of brewing she was anticipating, she may even get closer to brewing the perfect batch that could last twelve hours. Winning on all sides really.

Merlin, she was ruminating again. She made it. First mission was a success and she had two hours and fifty minutes to get through as many books as possible. Best to get started. She lifted a hand to caress another beautifully bound book before focusing.

An hour and a half later, she was lamenting her lack of restraint as she only made it through two and a half bookshelves. She was in the middle of levitating ten books, cradling an eleventh in the crook of her arm as her fingers traced the spine of a twelfth wistfully, when a throat cleared behind her politely. 

She whirled around with a squeak, her presently straight hair flying and whipping her in the face. The levitating books crashed to the floor due to her broken concentration, making her cringe. All of those books were over a hundred years old! She would have shot the intruder a look since it was partially their fault if she wasn't blinded by the unfamiliar hair clinging to her eyelashes and lipstick. 

She combed them away as gracefully as she could as she tried to regain her composure before almost losing it again entirely when she realized who interrupted her. 

Of course it was Draco Malfoy standing before her in all his regal, aristocratic glory, with his usual smirk firmly on his face. Things were going much too smoothly.

She stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. In all her planning she hadn't counted on being accosted by him.

He eyed her speculatively, his perfectly coiffed platinum blonde hair seemingly glowing in the muted light of the library. He wore an immaculately tailored muggle tuxedo which accented the lean lines of his body to perfection. She may not like him but even she could admit he was fit. There was neither a wrinkle in sight nor a hair out of place. He looked flawless, as always. 

When she first saw him upon arrival she was shocked. She would never have thought he would lower himself to wear anything but the finest of wizarding robes. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that he looked quite dashing but he always looked dashing. The prat.

She blinked at him, waiting for the inevitable volley of insults and preparing her tongue for her retaliation before remembering she wasn't Hermione tonight. Tonight she was Elena Tuttleburg. An average height, somewhat slender, raven haired woman from Wales. 

"Hello. I don't believe we've met," he said smoothly, his smirk widening into a charming grin. He held out his hand and she was once again blinking at him in confusion before realizing he wanted her to take it.

She tentatively placed her hand in his. She hadn't touched him since that satisfying right hook she gifted him in third year. His hands were warm and firm as he raised it to his lips slowly, his eyes holding hers with more heat than should be deemed appropriate on a first meeting, as he gently kissed her knuckles. His lips felt soft and plush as they brushed against her skin. She felt her stomach muscles clench slightly as her body flushed with a soft heat. Her heart stuttered a few beats. She froze with shock for a moment before forcing her body to calm down lest he suspect something. 

What was her body doing? This was _Malfoy_. The snarky, annoying, sarcastic git who tormented her in childhood, was a source of terror in her teenage years and irritated her in adulthood. How dare her body betray her is such a way?

She had witnessed his charm and how it affected women of all ages around the ministry many times. She never understood how they could fall for such a blatant act of persuasion. However, now that the charm was locked, loaded and pointed at her for the first time since she clapped eyes on him in their first year, she could see why it always worked for him. 

She willed her body to pipe down before taking a calming breath and giving him a small, tight smile, bowing her head slightly. 

"Ma-Mr.Malfoy. Hello to you too. My name is Elena. I hope you don't mind me taking you up on the invitation you gave us all during the tour to explore your lovely library," she greeted, using her best Welsh accent. 

"Not at all. Typically people ignore my offer to enjoy my library. I'm pleased that someone was finally interested."

"Well, of course. Your library is practically famous. To be able to explore and enjoy it is an honor and pleasure," she said, trying to relax into the roll of Elena. It was rather difficult since Malfoy was studying her with an intensity that made her think she said something wrong. It took everything she had not to visibly squirm under his scrutiny. 

His grin took on a devious slant, his eyes watching her carefully. "A book lover, I presume?" 

"Why, yes. A bibliophile to the letter. I have a great passion for them."

He continued to pin her with his gaze. She felt a bead of sweat travel down her back. Just when she was beginning to formulate a plan of escape, his charming smile softened into a playful grin. 

"I have no doubt of it. Although, you have already mistreated them," he stated, giving her a pointed look of admonishment, though his eyes twinkled in amusement. She looked at the ten books scattered haphazardly beside her and immediately levitated them back into the air, properly chagrined

He chuckled softly, the sound of it making her body react strangely. She frowned at her body's betrayal before glancing back at him. The amusement in his eyes bled into the rest of his face. 

"That's quite a pile you've collected. Were you planning on staying all night?" 

"What?" she asked rather sharply. His eyebrows rose, his grin sharpening. "No. Not at all. But I couldn't help but want to skim through them a bit before I take my leave." she corrected with what she hoped was a demure smile. 

His eyes dipped to her mouth for a moment before returning to her eyes, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second before righting itself. 

"Well, by all means, Ms...?" 

"Tuttleburg." 

"And where are you from Ms. Elena Tuttleburg?"

"Wales." 

"Ah, I have family in Wales. Do you know of a Lyra Black? A cousin of sort of mine. She lives near Bangor. Fairly well known in that area, as I've been told."

"No, I don't believe I do, I'm afraid. I live in Cardiff. Clear across the country from Bangor." she answered, silently willing him to leave. She commended herself on memorizing the geographical layout of Wales in case a question such as his came up. 

He studied her a moment longer then chuckled again as if laughing at a joke he wasn't going to share. 

"Of course. Well I won't keep you. I can tell you are most anxious to get back to your light reading. Shall I summon a house elf to bring you some refreshments?" he asked, his trademark smirk back in place. She fought to keep her face neutral. 

"You weren't keeping me at all, Mr. Malfoy," she lied. "And refreshments will not be necessary. Thank you once again for allowing us such a privilege."

"Anytime, Ms. Tuttleburg. I hope to see you again this evening. Perhaps a dance later?"

"As you wish, Mr. Malfoy." she answered with absolutely no intention of going to the ballroom. He bowed to her and somehow made the polite gesture look sarcastic before making his way to the doors. He paused for a moment then looked back at her as if to say something but changed his mind, giving her a nod before exiting the room. She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. 

She felt like that was a close call even though he couldn't possibly have known who she really was. She checked her watch and huffed out a breath in frustration. Now she had little over an hour before the potion wore off. Leave it to Malfoy to nearly ruin her carefully made plans. And of course they would still enslave one magical creature while hosting a fundraiser for the emancipation of another. Typical. She almost respected him a little for his and his mothers endeavors. Silly of her to think it was anymore than a ploy. Slytherins through and through. 

She levitated the stack of books over to a plush couch, sat down with one last frustrated huff and started reading voraciously. 

An hour later, as she closed the last book she was able to skim through, which was only three out of the eleven she chosen. She scowled. Next time she would have to get to the library quicker if she wanted more time. Also, perhaps it would be a good idea to procure a hair from someone less likely to attract Malfoy's attention. Making a stronger batch that lasted at least six hours would help tremendously too. She cast a spell to return the books to their proper places wandlessly before reluctantly making her way to the beautifully carved doors. 

She estimated she had about fifteen minutes before her true identity would be exposed for any and all to see. It was fortunate the library was close to the entrance. Knowing that was what led her to read until the very last minute. 

She made her way quickly through the wide hallway that opened directly into a white marbled foyer. She had almost made her escape, the large front door in sight. Her hands were reaching for the crystal door handle when a mocking voice called out to her making her freeze in place.

"Leaving so soon? The party is in full swing now. Not to mention you promised me a dance." Malfoy's voice floated in the air, the cavernous foyer bouncing his words around her. 

She almost sighed aloud. She schooled her face and turned around, giving him what she hoped was a bright smile though it felt a bit tight. He emerged from a different hallway than the one she used, his hands in his pockets. 

"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Malfoy. I lost track of time in the library and really must be going." she said, trying to inject a believable amount of regret in her words. 

Draco merely smirked. 

"I figured that would happen. You had eleven books to get through, after all. Tell me, were you able to get through them all."

"I'm sure you already know the answer to that," she answered sardonically. 

"Then shall I expect to see you here for next months gala? To finish up your books, of course," he asked with that damned smirk.

She returned his smirk with one of her own. "Perhaps."

"I'll look forward to it. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Tuttleburg," he said, bowing his head to her. There was a tone in his voice she couldn't identify but she didn't have the time to analyze it. She had about eight minutes to get to the apparition point which was a brisk five minute walk if she left right this second. She opted to use that departure method rather than the floo so that no one could overhear her destination upon leaving nor trace where she goes. She was kind of regretted that decision. 

She bowed her head politely before using every ounce of calmness she had left to not tear the door open and run. She stepped out and power walked as gracefully as she could off the grounds, not daring to look back. 

As she reached the point, she couldn't help but turn around. She could make out Draco standing in front of his door, hands still in his pockets. Even from 100 yards away she could tell he was watching her. She apparated with a crack and was back in the living room of her flat. Just in time apparently, as she watched her long black hair return to its original honey brown frizzy state. She was off by two minutes.

Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest for a much different reason than a few hours before. The record breaking walk and the anxiousness Draco stirred in her in his foyer made her feel like she was having a mini heart attack. She exhaled a deep breath as she sunk into her sofa.

Maybe she shouldn't do that again. That was entirely too close to being a disaster. She shook her head. No. She just had to be more careful next time. Now that she has seen it, there was no way she would be able to stay away. At least not until she explored the ground floor a bit more. She could live without exploring the second floor. Maybe. 

All she had to do was tighten up her plan. Making the potion last longer was a must. While she was at the library she read a passage that gave her a new theory. Perhaps if she harvested the fluxweed during the perigean full moon it may heighten the potency and thus the longevity of the potion. 

The next one happened to be in two days. She could still have it done in a month if everything went as planned. She nodded to herself, in agreeance with her thoughts, looking a bit like a nutter sitting in her silent living room, nodding and shaking her head at her wall. 

She didn't have to give up, she just had to do better is all. She got up to shower and change before she did a bit more research on fluxweed and its properties with the books she already had. 

As she prepared her shower she thought about the glory that was the Malfoy library. It truly was beautiful. Never had she encountered so many books she either only ever heard of in references of other books or never heard of at all. It was heavenly. She couldn't wait to go back. 

If I'm careful, nothing like that will happen again she thought to herself resolutely. Stick to the plan and everything should work out fine. By the time she closed her eyes to go to sleep hours later, she was nearly completely convinced that was true.


	2. Chapter 2

This time she was ready. 

She looked at herself in the mirror and scowled before clearing her face. She chose an older woman in her mid to late fifties with salt and pepper hair and the figure of a school marm this time. If this persona didn't repel Malfoy she would have to come as a man next visit. 

Speaking of Malfoy, she'd been seeing him at a higher frequency than usual at the ministry. She usually only saw him, at most, once a week. The past month she had seen him at least once a day. Sometimes twice. It was disturbing to say the least. The fact that he hadn't tossed one sarcastic remark at her made the encounters even more disconcerting. 

It had to be a coincidence that she had been seeing him more since her nearly disastrous visit to his library. A small part of her was growing more and more paranoid that he knew as the next gala drew near. She had to keep convincing herself there was no way he would be able to keep that juicy bit of blackmail material to himself during each of their frequent, yet brief, run ins. 

Besides she was too far in to turn back now due to unfounded suppositions. If he showed any sign of knowing she will simply cease her undercover library visits immediately. 

Until then, she couldn't help but continue. Her being correct in her theory about harvesting fluxweed during the perigean moon only reinforced her determination. Her brew did indeed yield better results. Tonight her batch would last at least five hours. She knew an additional hour wasn't much but it would have to do for now. 

She studied herself in the mirror once more before concluding there was nothing more she could do. The appointed time for the arrival of newcomers to the estate was soon.

She walked to her living room and took a deep breath to quell the nervousness in her stomach. Her confidence in her plan took a major hit at the last gala with Malfoy hovering about. She came up with several plans in case there was a repeat performance on his part. She was still a bit anxious but she was ready. As ready as she was going to be anyway. 

She took out her pocket watch. The appointed meeting time was in one minute. She straightened her shoulders and took another breath before apparating with a loud crack. 

She landed at the Malfoy apparition point to see a small crowd of people who had already arrived conversing quietly amongst themselves. Some of the attendees gave her a passing glance before resuming their conversations. 

Good. At least this part of her plan was running smoothly. No one looked twice at the older witch in her rather baggy dress robes. 

A moment later a magical path appeared on the manicured lawn leading to the manor. At once, conversations ceased and everyone made their way to the front door. As soon as the first person came within ten feet of the entrance, it swung open revealing Malfoy once again impeccably dressed in a dark grey muggle suit. 

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," he greeted in his slow drawl. He surveyed them all for a moment before continuing. "My mother and I are so very pleased to welcome you into our home and it makes us so happy to have you involved in this month's gala. 

If you all will step inside I shall commence the tour of our west wing of the estate before we join the rest in the ballroom. If you'd please," he said before stepping back to allow everyone inside. 

Today instead of moving furthur into the estate (couldn't call this behemoth a house) to wait for the group to reconverge like last time, he remained by the door. Her stomach dropped as she watched his eyes pass over each attendee with a charming smile and a sharp gaze as they each greeted him before moving into the house.

He didn't do this last time so why was he doing it now? The paranoia was back in full force and Hermione tried to suppress the urge to turn around and march right back to the apparition point. No, she came this far. She had to see it through. There was no way he could know who she really was. She had to call on the courage her school house was so known for, something she hadn't had to do in quite some time. Hermione Granger had never backed down from a challenge and she wasn't about to start now. She squared her shoulders and lifted her head up high. 

_This is worth it. This is worth it._ she repeated in her head like a mantra. 

Too soon it was her turn, bringing up the rear of the group. She stopped in front of him and gave him her friendliest smile. She couldn't tell if she was successful with the unfamiliar face. 

Next time, if there is a next time, she will have to practice facial expressions before coming. 

"A pleasure, Mr. Malfoy," she greeted before moving towards the crowd.

"All mine," he drawled behind her. 

She turned around to find him studying her, his face his usual politely indifferent mask but his silver eyes dancing.

"Okay, if you would all follow me we can begin. We shall start with the first ballroom..."

Hermione fought not to roll her eyes. 

Fifty-two minutes later, after her second tour of the manor that she swore was longer than the last, she finally stood in front of the ebony doors. 

She let herself in and was once again immediately struck by its beauty. With a sigh of happiness she made her way back to the section she ended at last time. Learning her lesson from last time she only chose the books she had to put away without cracking open during her last visit. It was still too many books but less than the eleven she chose last time. 

She levitated them to a coffee table and took a quick glance at her watch. She had four hours. With a happy nod she selected the book at the top of the stack and set to reading. 

Two and a half hours later, she finally came up for air with a satisfied smile. The book she was currently engrossed in was the first book written by her favorite herbology author. Their first book was extremely rare to come by. Not only did the Malfoy's have it but it was the first edition! She could absolutely live in this library. 

With a touch of envy she wondered if Malfoy appreciated this treasure trove he had right at his finger tips. While she knew he excelled in his studies in school she had never actually seen him with a book in his hand outside of studying at the school library. Well, it didn't matter. She was here and she appreciated it greatly. 

She rolled her neck to rid it of the kink it developed from not moving for the last couple of hours and looked up. Her heart stopped as she gasped in surprise, the book she was holding falling from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She placed her hand over her chest as she willed her galloping heart to slow down.

Malfoy was sitting in the couch across from her, cool as a cucumber. With a crystal cocktail glass half full of an amber liquor held in his hand and his right ankle resting on his left knee he looked like he had been there for quite some time. Just like last time, she hadn't heard him enter the room. The entrance door was silent, she knew, but she should have at least heard him sit on the couch or register the change in air pressure. Maybe there was a secret passage hidden somewhere. She made a mental note to cast a detection charm for next time. 

He smiled apologetically. "Hello. Forgive me. I didn't mean to give you a scare. You were so immersed in your book that I didn't want to disturb you," he said as he gently set his glass down on the end table. He stood up gracefully and walked around the coffee table that separated them to pick up the book. He handed it back to her with an amused grin on his face. She took it back and set it down beside her gently. 

"I don't believe we've met." 

He held out a hand to her and she automatically placed hers in his, forgetting decorum and remaining seated. He bent down as he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles, looking into her eyes with the same heat they held when he kissed her hand last time. 

The rake. She was suppose to be pushing sixty right now! 

Her hand tingled where his lips brushed and she fought not to snatch it back. _Not now, you traitor_ she mentally scolded her borrowed body. Maybe the reason she kept having these reactions to him was because it was never with her own body. Surely if she was in her own she wouldn't react to him at all. Yes, that must be it. 

He smirked at her as though he heard her thoughts. He released her hand and she ignored the urge to wipe it on her robes as he stood upright and slipped his hands in his pockets as he appraised her. 

Her hand was still tingling and he was staring at her. She stared back for a moment before she realized he was waiting for her to introduce herself. 

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. My name is Antoinette Studdenmire. It is a pleasure to meet you," she said lightly. She had an entire backstory in place to cover any question he may ask of her. From how many grandchildren she had to where she was from. She even researched the local wizard registry for any well known names just in case he had more distant relatives there. 

"The pleasure is mine," he replied. He eyed the stack of books sitting on the coffee table in front of her before flicking his gaze back at her. "A book lover?" 

"Why yes, I am an avid reader. I've heard stories of your library and couldn't pass on your invitation. Your library is beautiful," she answered with the proper amount of graciousness as she mentally cursed him for interrupting her yet again. 

"Thank you. Have you no interest in the gala?" he asked. 

She flushed guiltily. _No, I dont have any interest in your little farce of a gala_ she wanted to say. 

"Oh, but of course. I just wanted to peruse your selection before I joined the festivities," she said instead with what she hoped was a grandmotherly smile. 

He remained silent for a moment before giving her a little grin. "Would you like a tour of the library? I didn't include it in the main tour because I figured I would bore you all to tears."

Her eyes widened as she almost leapt off the couch with excitement before she caught herself and schooled her face to look politely interested. 

"That would be lovely, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

His face still looked decidedly amused and she wanted to ask what was so damn funny, but that wasn't the way a grandmother of four from Manchester should act so she kept quiet. 

He held out his hand once again and she only hesitated for a moment before allowing him to help her up from the couch. An electric zing shot up her arm from her fingertips from the contact. Really now. Was this going to happen every time he took her hand she groused to herself. It was annoying and unsettling. Maybe she should wear gloves next time...

He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, snapping her out of her thoughts, before letting her hand go. She almost tripped over her feet. His touch felt like he left a trail of fire behind on her skin. When he turned away she wiped her hand against her robes in an unsuccessful attempt at soothing the burning feeling. It stubbornly lingered.

Had he always been so touchy? She recalled every instance of his interactions with witches that she witnessed at the ministry even going back to sift through memories of their school days. She couldn't recall him ever greeting them with hand kisses and holding their hands for longer than necessary. 

This _is_ a less formal setting. Perhaps he's more relaxed because it's a party atmosphere. Maybe he was just a natural flirt. 

"Ms. Studdenmire?" 

She snapped to attention again. She got so lost in her thoughts she hadn't realized she still stood where he left her and he was now standing near a shelf. 

She could feel the blush creep into her cheeks. "My apologies. I do that sometimes. Getting older does that," she said with a forced smile, belatedly remembering her role. It took all she could to hold his gaze. 

His lips twitched as he watched her make her way over to stand beside him. 

"Well, Ms. Studdenmire, and forgive me if this sounds inappropriate," he said, his silver eyes trained on her. He leaned down a bit as if he was divulging a secret, "but my favorite wines are of the older variety. The older the better," he said silkily, his voice dropping a few octaves sending an unwanted shiver up her spine.

Heat swept through her body as her jaw dropped. He _was_ flirting! With a woman nearly thrice his age at that. She was in the process of channeling the spirit of Minerva McGonagall when he burst into laughter. She was shocked into silence. She'd never seen Malfoy laugh so freely before. She felt her lips almost quirk into a smile in response before smoothing her face back to the look of eternal disappointment their former headmistress had a patent on. 

"I do apologize, Ms. Studdenmire. I can see you are not a fan of my brand of humour," he said, once his laughter subsiding into a soft chuckle. "Please. I meant no harm. If you'd let me give you this tour I'll get out of your hair."

"That would be nice," she replied primly, staunchly ignoring the heat his words had generated.

He gave her a mischievous little smirk before he launched into an abbreviated history of his family as he led her around the library pointing out the various sections, all categorized by subject matter. According to him, his family went back ten centuries to Armand Malfoy who arrived in Britain with William the Conqueror as part of the invading Norman army. His ancestor settled in Wiltshire and built the Manor. His descendants have lived there ever since. 

Over the course of a thousand years his ancestors had expanded not only the Manor but the library as well. The library was the culmination of a millennium of Malfoy's adding books that spanned every subject in the wizarding world. 

Despite the fact that it was Malfoy giving her (yet another) tour, she was fascinated. Nothing captivated Hermione more than history. Not only that, but he was a very good story teller. She hung onto every word he said, brimming with questions but holding them back for she did not want to interrupt him. She thought idly that if he didn't work at the ministry he would make a good teacher. She wasn't sure what to make of seeing Malfoy in this new light so she made nothing of it, pretending it was anyone else giving her this riveting history lesson. A difficult endeavor as she found she rather liked the sound of his voice. 

She stopped that train of thought immediately.

During the tour she figured out that while the Hogwarts library boasted quantity with its hundreds of thousands of books, the Malfoy library was a marvel due to its quality. There were no useless books here. Each and every book present was hand picked for a reason. She realized she preferred this type of library over a library with an over abundance of tomes. She literally couldn't wait to delve deeper into them, her fingers itching to have one in her hand again. As they moved around the library, she mentally mapped out where she wanted to explore most now that she knew where everything was. 

Nearly an hour later they approached the final section. 

"And this is my favorite section. All these books deal in potions. History of potions, diaries of potion masters, potion recipes, et cetera, et cetera. I've read them all. Some of them more than once."

"You are into potions?" she asked with genuine curiosity. 

"It was my favorite subject in school. I have my own laboratory that I experiment in back at my flat."

Hermione's eyebrows flew up in surprise. She had no idea Malfoy had such a hobby. Honestly she knew little more than what she read in the society pages of the Daily Prophet, that he was a curse breaker at work and he was a prat. She had so many questions. What kind of experiments? How often does he work in his laboratory? What potions have he brewed? Which was his favorite?

She was about to start firing them off when she remembered she was under the influence of a time sensitive potion herself and she hadn't been keeping up with the time at all. She pulled out her pocket watch and almost groaned out loud. Four and a half hours had passed. She had about half an hour before the effects wore off. 

She wanted to kick herself. How could she be so careless? She was grateful she realized now rather than later. She looked up to find Malfoy studying her, a knowing smile on his face. 

"My deepest apologies, Mr. Malfoy but I lost track of time. I really must be going. Thank you for such a wonderful tour. It was truly enthralling to the hear the history of such a wonderous library."

He merely nodded his head looking not the least bit surprised at her announcement.

"A pity. You haven't had a chance to enjoy the gala at all." 

"Perhaps I will attend next months gala." she said offhandedly knowing fully well that Ms. Studdenmire will not be back ever again. 

"I would be honored to be graced with your presence once again," he said, his charming smile back in place while his silver eyes danced with mischief. "Please allow me to escort you to the apparition point."

"Oh, that won't be necessary-"

"I insist." he cut her off with a polite smile. Rather than argue with him she inclined her head in begrudging acquiescence. He held out his arm to her and she took it reluctantly. 

As they walked towards the door she remembered the books she left on the table and with a wave of her hand sent them back to where they belonged. 

She looked up at Malfoy to find him looking down at her with a raised eyebrow but he said nothing as he opened the door for her and allowed her to walk out first. 

They exited the Manor and walked to the apparition point in silence. She was eternally grateful for that for she was nervous again. Once they reached the point, she turned to face him. 

"Thank you again, Mr. Malfoy. It has been a great pleasure."

He looked down at her, studying her face impassively for a moment before a slow smile curved his lips. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. Holding her gaze, he place a warm kiss against her knuckles once again holding it for too long. Her eyes widened as her body reacted stronger than before. Her lips parted in surprise as heat swept through her making her stomach muscles clenched. 

He let go of her hand and gave her a smug smirk. 

"The pleasure was all mine," he murmured. "I look forward to seeing you again, Ms. Studdenmire."

Without another word she apparated away with a loud crack landing in her living room with enough force to send a loose stack of papers she left on her coffee table scattering around the room. A testament of how anxious she was to escape. 

With a pounding heart, she staggered to her couch and flopped down with a shaky sigh, rubbing her forehead wearily. This operation was not suppose to be so stressful. If anything the whole point was so that her visits to the Manor was stress free. Due to Malfoy's constant interruptions, it was anything but. She scowled at her wall. Draco Malfoy seemed to have a special talent for being a thorn in her side.

She sat, unmoving for several minutes, contemplating whether or not going back was worth it. She thought of the tour and all the sections of the library she very much wanted to explore. Yes, it was worth it. She sighed in resignation. One day her insatiable thirst for knowledge will be her undoing, she was sure of it. 

She lifted the hand he had kissed twice that evening and studied it. It still tingled. She frowned at it before wiping it aggressively against her robes. The tingling sensation remained. 

She leaned her head back on the couch with a sigh as she felt her body begin to revert back. During this visit she had two world changing revelations. Malfoy actually did have the ability to be pleasant was the first. The second, the one she had no idea how she was going to come to terms with, was she found him attractive. 

She closed her eyes and huffed out a tired, self-deprecating laugh. Would wonders never cease.

Perhaps gloves wasn't a bad idea.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello. I don't believe we've met."

Hermione froze before chuckling drily under her breath. _Silent as always_ she mused. _How does he do that?_ She turned around to find, as what was becoming habit, Malfoy standing before her, a wry smile on his face, his eyes moving over her face sharply as they always did.

She smiled back as she automatically lifted her hand for him to kiss. By now she was well versed in his matter of greeting a strange witch as this was the seventh time he had approached her at these galas despite the fact that she was always there as a different person. 

Honestly at this point, him popping up looking like he'd been there the whole time was not only expected, she was looking forward to it. As it turned out listening to Malfoy talk about his favorite books was almost as good as reading them herself. 

She figured at some point he will have no interest in chatting up anonymous, unassuming strangers but no matter what type of body she chose, young, old, attractive, unattractive, extremely unattractive, he still approached her. Every single time. 

The first time she simply thought she had unwittingly chose Malfoy's ideal woman. The second time she thought it was merely a coincidence that he showed up once again. The third time, after forgoing coming as a man (she just couldn't bear the fact that she would have to see the man's naked body when she dressed) and choosing a rather plump, severe looking woman, and he still approached her, Hermione didn't know what to think. 

On that occasion, he engaged her in a rather riveting conversation about potions. She found it fascinating. His knowledge on the subject was vast and far superior to hers, it turned out. So rarely had she ever had the pleasure of conversing with someone who knew more than her on any subject aside from professors. She so badly wanted to ask him about his theories on prolonging the effects of polyjuice. If he ever brewed it. If anyone could help her figure out the method it was him but something told her that bringing that up would probably set him on a path of figuring out her farce so she refrained. 

It was obvious that it was something else that kept attracting him to her and as clever as she been told she was and knew herself to be, she couldn't for the life of her figure it out. Perhaps he had the sole job of guarding the library since that was where he would always spring up on her. 

Whatever the reason, ever since he, on a different topic than polyjuice, inadvertently gave her another idea that may help with her monthly endeavor of achieving the perfect brew of her own, came to seek out his opinions rather than resent his consistant interruptions.

During every trip to his library under a borrowed persona she found herself in intellectual conversations she had only ever dreamed about. Had longed for. After seven interactions she could finally admit that somewhere along the way she fell in love with Malfoy. 

Malfoy. 

Her friends and everyone she knew will absolutely howl. 

However out of character it was, it was undeniable, for here she was getting heart palpitations from just his breath on the one part of her body with the least amount of erogenous zones. Life could take unexpected turns sometimes.

She cleared her thoughts as her smile grew brighter at the sight of him. Today he was in a tuxedo again and looked, as always, devastatingly handsome

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Constance Evermore. Connie if you don't mind." she said with all the confidence that playing this game for a little over half a year gave her.

Tonight, she did something different. Tonight she chose a woman around her own age. A little shorter and a little thin but with long dark, curly hair and brown eyes. She was the closest she could find to herself.

Now that she was aware of her feelings and accepted them, she wanted to know if he would treat someone who resembled her differently. She wanted to see how he would react. Depending on his actions this evening, if things go the way she hoped, she was going to approach him at the ministry and start pursuing a real friendship with him as herself. 

For the last seven months he'd been progressively cordial to her at the ministry, even going so far as to wish her a happy birthday a few months back. They weren't friends but she could now see they could be. She wanted to be. After having these conversations with him she desperately wanted him in her life in some capacity. 

Friendship would be nice. And maybe it could develop into something more. She wanted that too. 

But while she now knew him better he still probably viewed the real Hermione the same as he did before she started sneaking into his library. He hadn't had these conversations with _her_ after all. 

She pushed those thoughts to the side. Tonight will be the start of changing that.

He smiled indulgently as he pulled her hand to his mouth, looking at her over her knuckles with a heated glance before kissing them gently, his soft lips lingering on her delicate skin. That familiar jolt of awareness shot up her arm and through her body. She was now use to the flare of heat his greetings gave her so she merely smiled at him as she bowed her head slightly. 

"Well, Connie, please call me Draco. Have you been enjoying the library?" he asked, his silver eyes holding her in place.

"Quite. You have a lovely library, Mr-erm, Draco. I was so pleased when you announced it was open for our enjoyment during the tour."

She tried not to spit out the last word. Tonight she had to endure her seventh nearly hour long tour and she was quite sick of it if she was being honest. She was pretty sure she could now conduct them herself and considerably faster.

She watched as his lips quirked slightly at her words.

"But of course. It pleases me greatly when people actually take me up on the offer. I'm afraid not many people share our love for books."

" _Our_ love?"

"Why yes. I, myself, love books and I could only assume you must love them too as you have completely shunned the festivities in the ballroom to peruse these ancient tomes by your lonesome."

"I couldn't possibly turn down an opportunity to see your famous library when offered so freely, Draco," she returned quite honestly. 

He smiled at her as his eyes passed over her body briefly. His eyes drifted back to her face. "Of course," he said as if expecting that answer. He was quiet for a moment as his smile turned a tad devious. "Perhaps I could persuade you to join me for a glass of wine? Surely so much reading has made you a bit parched."

She was about to ask what reading had to do with thirst but a look on his face, a look that said he was expected her to make that comment too, stopped her. 

"But, of course, Draco. That would be lovely," she said instead. A pale, winged eyebrow rose fractionally, the deviousness in his smile sharpening.

"Tipsy!" he called out without taking his eyes off hers. With a muffled pop a small elf appeared in front of them. Hermione almost growled in indignation but held back when she noticed the elf was wearing clothing. A crisp, lilac slip of cloth covered her small body artfully, cinched at her waist with a jeweled belt. She even wore a small gold medallion attached to a short gold chain. She looked at Hermione then quickly looked away shyly.

"Master Draco calls for Tipsy?" she asked with a high, sweet voice.

"Yes, Tipsy. Please fetch a bottle of red. The special one please." 

Tipsy's large eyes grew wide.

"Of course, Master Draco. Tipsy will fetch it right away," she said with a tiny curtsey that Hermione found rather cute. She disappeared immediately with another muffled pop. She looked back at him to find him barely suppressing an amused smile.

She was about to ask what was funny when Tipsy reappeared with a rather old looking wine bottle and two crystal wineglasses. Malfoy took them and thanked the house elf before she gave him a wide, pleased smile. She gave Hermione another shy look then disappeared again. 

He produced a wine opener from his pocket and Hermione nearly rolled her eyes. Only Malfoy would walk around armed and ready to pop open a wine bottle at any given moment. She watched silently as he set down the glasses and opened the bottle with a flourish before pouring them both a healthy amount of wine. He set down the bottle, picked up the glasses and handed one to her. 

He toasted her silently, a mischievous glint in his eye before taking a sip. She did the same, her eyebrows rising in appreciation. It was delicious. She shouldn't have expect anything less, really. 

"Do you like it?" 

"Yes. It's lovely," she answered truthfully.

"It's a 1967 Chateau Lafite red Bordeaux blend."

Hermione tilted her head, eyeing the bottle curiously, before looking back at him. "That is a Muggle wine."

He gave her a steady gaze as he took another sip, "yes, it is."

She tilted the glass to her lips just to give her hands something to do because she was currently still locked into place by his piercing eyes. He was giving her that look again. The look of seeing right through her.

"Well versed in Muggle wines?" he asked, his tone impassive but his eyes still watching her intensely.

"As you are well aware, after the war, more Muggle products and technologies have been adopted into our culture," she quickly covered, her voice stiff. Most wizarding folk didn't know of anything in the Muggle culture. Such a rookie mistake drawing attention to her Muggle heritage. His gaze only became more intense. She tore her eyes away and changed the subject.

"1967? And how much is a 1967 Chateau Lafite worth these days?" she asked, looking everywhere but him.

She could practically hear him grin at her. "Not much considering its year. Just around five thousand galleons."

She nearly choked, eyes flying to his. Not much? That was nearly half a years worth of rent for her flat. She cleared her throat. 

"Is that all?" she asked with faux nonchalance, her panic at revealing too much a dim memory in light of the thousand galleon glass of wine she was currently partaking in. She took a smaller sip.

He smirked at her.

He picked up the bottle and gestured towards the French doors. "Come. Join me on the balcony. This wine is best enjoyed outdoors. The sun is soon to set and you get the best view of it from there. Aside from my bedroom, of course," he told her with a leer that he somehow manage to make look charming rather than lecherous. She merely gave him a small smile before taking another small sip of his ridiculously expensive wine. She had also grown quite use to Malfoy making thinly veiled innuendos.

She followed him to the doors, he opened it and allowed her to exit first before following her out. Hermione never gave much attention to the doors and what was beyond it. She was greeted with a lovely view of the gardens teeming with various flowers, shrubs and trees and the manicured yet lush fairgrounds. They were clearly very well maintained.

The sun was indeed making it's way to the horizon. Everything was awashed in a soft golden glow. It was quite beautiful. She walked to the balustrade to admire the view. He set down the wine bottle on a table and joined her, looking out at the lawn as well as he took another sip of wine. 

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. 

"Is Tipsy a free elf?" she asked with what she hoped was a believable amount of off handedness. Malfoy's lips quirked at the corners. 

"She is. As are all the rest. My mother and I freed all the elves right after the war. We gave them the choice of remaining with us as employees or leaving to make lives elsewhere. They all chose to stay," he answered. He took another sip of his wine before smiling to himself. 

"Mother likes to gift all the lady elves with jewelry. Tipsy probably has a treasure chest full of expensive baubles right now. She likes to wear a different one everyday though I think the necklace she was wearing today is her favorite. I gave her that one."

Hermione nodded slowly, digesting what he said as a gentle breeze ruffled her brown hair. Over the last few months, Malfoy was proving himself to be more than she gave him credit for over and over again. Had proven that she never really gave him a chance after she testified for him. She wanted to change that. She idly wondered how much time had passed. It wouldnt do to transform into herself before she laid down the groundwork at work.

She wanted to check her watch but realized four personas ago that it was highly suspicious that all these different people he met always had the same pocket watch and always dashing out the door after checking it like they were each the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. She estimated she had been in the library for nearly four hours before he appeared and the batch of polyjuice she made this month was her strongest brew yet and was expected to last for six and a half hours. She estimated she had a little over one hour left. He usually appeared much sooner. While she was waiting she had thought maybe he wasn't coming. She wasnt terribly shocked by the disappointment she felt when she thought he wasn't.

But he was here now.

They looked out at the grounds in silence for a few moments, sipping their wine. She suddenly had a thought and looked over at him. He had spent a _lot_ of time with absolute strangers every month during these functions he was by all accounts suppose to be hosting. How did he get away with disappearing for so long each time he chatted with her? She had to ask.

"Don't you have a party to host, Draco? I'm sure your guests are wondering where you are by now."

He grinned. "Actually Mother is the host. I merely give the very elaborate tours," he told her with a smile that said there was a deeper joke in there somewhere. "I'd bet my inheritance the guests are fine with all the expensive wine and delicious food provided for them. Besides I am already known for periodically disappearing. Air of mystery and all that."

"And do you make it a habit to spend your disappearing act with strange witches?"

"Only when I find the strange witch to be interesting."

"And why do you find me to be so interesting?"

"Who said I found _you_ interesting?"

"Well, you're here drinking ridiculously expensive wine like its Butterbeer with me so I just thought..." she said sarcastically.

He smirked. "You're right. I do find you interesting. You remind me of someone." 

Her skin prickled as a small kernel of hope flared to life. She tried to tamp it down, remembering who she was dealing with. Surely this was a line he told all the girls.

"Who do I remind you of?"

"A girl I was in love with many years ago."

Her heart stopped for a moment then started back up again. She had to remind herself again not to get her hopes up. He may have redeemed himself in many ways but he was still a natural born seducer. Never forget he's an absolute rake who will flirt with your grandmother without batting an eye and may even successfully woo her. _Just because he says _that_ the night I chose to look like me does not mean he hasn't used that line on some other unsuspecting girl_ she told herself even as her heart thumped in her chest.

She turned to look at him, their eyes locking the moment she faced him. She opened her mouth to ask him how many girls fell for that but stopped, the words dying in her throat. His eyes had changed. They had went from the molten steel with which she had grown accustomed, to the hazy gray of stormy skies. His eyes cleared up almost instantly as if a curtain was abrubtly drawn. The steel back but no heat. 

The change was so unexpected and so quick she was rendered speechless for a moment. Who was the girl that made Draco Malfoy capable of such a look after so many years? She must have been remarkable. She mentally tried to recall every girl who had long brown hair and brown eyes aside from herself, refusing to delude herself into thinking it could be her. Curiosity, however, was her superpower and her greatest weakness. She had to know who it was even though the answer could be devastating. 

"What happened with her?" she asked softly before she could stop herself. 

His mouth curved into a humorless smile. "Nothing. Nothing ever happened. I never told her."

"Why not?" 

"It was quite obvious that she wouldn't have me," he replied, looking out at the grounds as he took a sip of his wine. His face was smooth but his shoulders and arms were rigid. She'd never seen him look tense before.

She couldn't help it. She scoffed. "Forgive me for finding that hard to believe, Draco. You were voted the number one eligible bachelor a few years ago in Witch Weekly. You're in the society pages almost daily. You are the heir to one of the richest families in Britain. I'm sure you could probably have any witch you wanted. Surely you are mistaken."

"Trust me. I am not mistaken. And you are probably right. I probably could have any witch I wanted. Except the one I actually want. How unfortunate that she is not the type of witch who could be swayed by my money or my social status," he said with a rue smile.

"How do you know if you've never told her?" she pressed.

"I never exactly gave her any reason to ever believe how I truly felt about her if I'd ever had the courage to tell her. I was horrible to her."

"Horrible how?" she asked, wanting to hear him describe the way he was for her. To hear it from his perspective.

He remained quiet for a long moment, drained his wine then stared into his empty wineglass, his expression reflective and a bit sad before clearing up into his usual indifferent mask. 

"In too many ways to count. Let's just say the way I was raised was in no way conducive to winning a girl of her caliber. Her being the type of witch who doesn't read drivel like Witch Weekly doesn't help, either" he said with a wry smile. "None of that matters anymore. She's happy now. Doing all the things she loves to do. That's all that matters to me. I've always loved to see her happy."

She studied his profile for a moment before looking away, contemplating what type of girl could make him speak of her as if he was beneath her. Even now that she knew him better she still didn't see him as a person who could think anyone was above him in any way. She must have been beyond remarkable.

They remained silent for a few minutes.The sun had just sunk beneath the horizon leaving the sky in a riot of pinks, purples and oranges casting the manicured lawns and gardens in a soft, comforting light. It really was a lovely view. 

"Killed the mood, hadn't I?" he asked, bringing her attention back to him. He was looking directly at her and her heart tightened in her chest. She had, of course, accepted long ago that Malfoy was attractive. Even when she thought she hated him, she could admit he was quite good looking. However, in the twilight he was absolutely beautiful. 

The light softened his features and made his grey eyes look like mercury. He almost looked angelic. Seeing him like this, one could forget he was a prat. Well, former prat. She just stared at him as he continued speaking.

"Waxing poetically about lost love with someone I had every intention of enticing into coming back to my flat with me at some point this evening." He smiled cheekily, his charm back and turned up a few notches. 

She snapped out of her stupor and rolled her eyes as she bit back a chuckle. There he is. The prattiness was still there. She looked back at him to find him studying her closely, like he always did. She stared back as her lips curved playfully. 

"Do you entice many strange witches to your flat, Mr. Malfoy? 

"Just the interesting ones," he answered with a wolfish smile, his voice lowering a few octaves. She felt a jolt of arousal shoot down her belly, tightening her core. Merlin, she truly was a goner. 

"Of course," she said with a light laugh, ignoring the flush of heat and the dampening of her knickers. "No. You haven't killed the mood. I was just thinking. And no, I will not be accompanying you to your flat." 

_As much as I would love to._

"About what, may I ask? And why not, if I may also ask?"

_Because I am not even in my own body and I have less than an hour before I revert back to someone you would probably have absolutely no intention of ever enticing to your flat._

She smiled softly at him. "What do you think would have happened if you ever told her? And prior engagements, I'm afraid."

"Pity, that. And I've thought of many scenarios. Every night for years. Hundreds, maybe thousands of different results. None of them ending with her accepting me. All of them ending with her hexing me in various degrees of severity. She was quite good at hexing. In a few of those scenarios, I even died. I would have deserved any and every one of them." he said with a dry chuckle as if he didn't just admit he thought he deserved to die.

"Surely you weren't that horrible." she said automatically. Even knowing just how horrible he truly was, she never felt he deserved to die. Obviously. Her testimony at his trial being proof of that. 

"No, I was worse." he replied as easily as stating he liked milk in his tea. 

"Hmm, maybe you were too hard on yourself."

"Not in the least. Sometimes I think I wasn't hard enough."

"Well the past should remain in the past. You're a different man now." she said firmly.

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze calculating as he looked over her face. It was that look again. Her nerves tingled as she stared back. That piercing look always made her think he was figuring something out. Figuring _her_ out.

"And how would you, a strange witch I've only met today, know that I am a different man?" he asked softly. She felt the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. _Shite! Another mistake. How_ would _I know?_ She tried to affect a careless shrug. 

"I just have a feeling. You wouldn't have confessed all that to me if you were still the same cruel boy you were years ago, I would imagine. You should try again. Maybe she'd be more receptive if you told her now." she suggested though it pained her to do so. He deserved happiness. She was well aware of the treatment he still received even though the war was won years ago. She could still be his friend even if he finds out his unrequited love returned his feelings. 

He gazed at her for a few moments, his eyes still moving over her face as if he was looking for something. She was about to ask him what was wrong but the words were lost as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips to brush lightly across her knuckles, his silver eyes holding hers captive. Fire licked through her veins at the contact, stronger than ever, making her catch her breath. It was just a kiss on her hand but he always made it feel like he was kissing other places. Places where all the erogenous zones were. He gave her his signature smirk before lifting his head slightly, her hand still held close enough to his mouth to feel his warm breath against her knuckles. 

Even just that little amount of contact had her pressing her thighs together. 

"Perhaps I will. However, I am quite enjoying talking to you, at present." he murmured as he pressed an open mouth kiss on her hand, his soft lips sending a jolt of heat straight to her center. She moaned softly.

They both froze.

She stared at him with wide, surprised eyes while he stared back with his lips still pressed to her knuckles. She watched mesmerized as his eyes darkened. 

She got over the shock first and snatched her hand back, a furious blush suffusing her cheeks. 

Sweet Circe, what was that? What was she? A maiden from the 19th century? She was beyond mortified. She fought to put a carefree smile on her face even though she was feeling anything but. She had to say something. Anything because he was staring at her with a predatorial glint in his eyes. 

"This wine is really spectacular," she said lamely, draining the glass. 

"I know," he replied, moving a step closer to her. 

"Erm, usually it takes at least three glasses before I start..." she trailed off as her brain caught up with her mouth and she realized what she was about to say. 

"Before you start what?" he asked, his voice husky and dark, so close his breath ghosting across her cheek. 

She stared up at him. The playfulness was completely gone replaced by a look of such obvious desire she backed a step. 

"Before I start losing control of myself," she answered without thinking, staring at him like a deer in headlights. Her eyes widened in surprise again. She hadn't meant to say that. Fuck. She had to leave. She realized with growing panic that she truly had no idea how much time she had left. She lost track during their conversation. She tore her gaze away from him to look in her clutch for her watch forgetting about her vow to never let him see her with it again. She looked at the time and nearly sighed in relief. She had about thirty minutes to escape before the potion wore off. She was still leaving right this second but at least she wasn't at risk of accidentally revealing herself. 

"Well, Mr. Malfoy. It's been a pleasure but I really must be going," she said graciously, only a slight tremor betraying her nerves. She started to move for the doors but he caught her wrist in a gentle but firm hold.

"Back to Mr. Malfoy now?" he asked. 

"Forgive me. _Draco_ , I really must be going," she rectified, unsuccessfully trying to free herself from his grasp. His touch was burning hot against her skin. She _really_ needed to go before she threw herself at him.

"But I was really enjoying our conversation," he pouted. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his lips and held back a sigh of longing and mild annoyance. How could she ever fall for such a handsome git?

"As was I, but really, I must leave," she said, finally tugging her wrist free. He let her go with dramatic reluctance making her laugh.

She gave him a genuinely regretful smile as she moved towards the doors.

"A pity," he said to her back. "Well, I look forward to seeing you again next month."

"Oh, I dont know if I will make it back next month, Draco," she called over her shoulder as she reached for the door and placed her hand on the handle. 

"But you come every month. Granger."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, her entire body going cold. It seemed like their entire surroundings went silent. She could probably hear a pin drop from fifty meters away. She slowly turned around to look at him. He was leaning casually against the balustrade, his eyes on her, watching her carefully.

"W-what?" 

"I said you come every month, Granger. I've come to look forward to seeing who you will come as next."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, staring at him stupidly. He smiled before pushing himself off the balustrade to retrieve the wine bottle. He held it up at her in offering. 

"More wine?"


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione watched in stunned silence as Malfoy picked up her discarded wineglass and refilled it. He sauntered over and handed it to her. She took it absently and took a large swallow as he walked away to retrieve his own empty glass. 

"How long have you known?"

He said nothing as he refilled his glass and took a sip. He looked back at her for a moment before answering with a sheepish smile. 

"Since the first time I saw you seven months ago."

Her eyes widened in shock. Since the first time? So every conversation they had, he'd known. She felt herself flush with embarrassment and unreasonable indignation. Unreasonable because _she_ was the one traipsing around in disguise. 

"And you just let me keep coming back making a fool of myself?" she asked, trying hard to keep that unreasonable indignation out of her voice. Judging by the way his smile widened, she failed. He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

"We rarely speak at work and when we do it always turns to insults. If this was the only way to speak to you without the usual veneer of animosity our encounters are known to have then so be it. Also, it was fun," he said, taking a sip of his wine and eyeing her playfully over his glass. "I can't tell you how amusing it was to see you try to act as someone else. No matter what face you wore you were still Granger to the bone."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, opting to ignore her displeasure at being a source of amusement for him and how utterly mortified she still was. She could not understand why all this time he'd known and he just played along. She looked at him like he was an arithmancy problem she was trying to figure out.

"Why should you want to talk with me without our usual animosity?" she asked.

This time _he_ stared at _her_ like he couldnt understand her before scoffing in disbelief. "Have you not been listening? I've been telling you for the better part of an hour. And they call you the Brightest Witch of our Age."

She scowled at him. She was so tired of hearing that phrase. Then what he said sunk in. 

"You've been talking about _me_ this whole time?" she asked in disbelief. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes you, you silly bint. Who else have I been an absolute terror to in our formative years?" 

She was trying to remain cool but her heart was beating a fast staccato in her chest and her hands were shaking. The same thoughts were repeating over and over in her head. 

_He was talking about_ me _. He was in love with_ me.

He watched her quietly, his usual cool mask in place yet his eyes molten silver. 

There was so much she wanted to say but her curiosity had to be sated first. She had to know what she did to give herself away. She tilted her head.

"How _did_ you know?"

Draco's eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled dryly, shaking his head. Clearly that was not what he expected her response to his confession to be. He gave her an assessing look as he took another large sip of wine before shrugging his shoulders, his body language saying 'fuck it'.

He sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for her to take the one across from him. When she complied he took one more sip, set his glass down then began. 

"That first day you appeared. As Elena, if I recall correctly. That was the day I realized if there was an expert on you and your subtle nuances, it was me. Not surprising, if one thinks about it. I have over a decade of field observation after all. 

"You walked through the front door that day just another witch amongst a group of them. That was on purpose, am I right? You picking the most average face you could find? On a normal day, I wouldn't have looked twice at you. But there was something in your walk that caught my eye. You had a look on your face that was familiar but I couldn't place it. Then you tossed that glossy black hair you had back in a way that made me stop in my tracks. It was such a Granger move. Your hair toss should be trademarked though I don't think anyone else on earth could possibly duplicate it. I couldn't help but stare at you after that. 

"I was intrigued. Here was this random witch whom I had never seen before who's every manner and gesture was yours.

"I kept my eye on you. Watched you fidget through the tour that I prolonged just so I could study you a little longer. Thirty minutes in, I could only suspect it was you.

"I had saved the library for last on purpose. The way your face lit up, or should I say Elena's face, when you saw it. I was fairly sure it was you at that point.

"I watched you hang back when the tour group was lead to the ballroom. I waited a few moments before apparating into the library after you. I can do it silently, you know. 

"You stood in the middle of the room as if you were caught in some spell. For a moment I thought you were, that maybe our extensive eradication of wards and dark spells designed to hurt muggles was incomplete. 

"But then you laughed. I knew that laugh. Even through a different throat it was your laugh. I was convinced it was you then. 

"I was about to call your name. Just yell out Granger and shock the hell out of you but you walked to the books and lifted your hand and touched one. I watched you stroke your fingers down the spine. You touch books like one would touch a lover, did you know that? You always did that. I use to watch you caress the books in the library back at Hogwarts and imagine you touching me like that and get so aroused I'd feel dizzy. 

"I watched you for over an hour. You had no idea I was there, so lost in the books you were. Just like in school. Just as it's always been. I've watched you for years and you've never noticed. I wouldn't have minded being noticed and ignored. But to be unacknowledged to such a degree was...well, regardless I deserved it. Unfortunately, picking on you and calling you names seemed to be the only way I could get you to even look at me back then and even now the only way to get your attention is to throw a sarcastic remark or two at you but I digress. 

"It was just like back in school. Me unable to tear my eyes off you and you in your own little world, oblivious to everything around you save your books. It didn't matter that you were in a different body. I couldn't look away.

"When I confronted you, it took everything I had not to let on that I knew. Your Welsh accent is atrocious, by the way. Ah, and you should have seen your face when I asked if I should summon a house elf. You were so obvious. It was adorable. 

"When you left, I watched you march away to the apparition point. Your walk is also very unique. If I hadn't already figured it out by then I would have figured it out at that moment. I wanted to say something but I decided to wait and see how you were going to play it. 

"At work, I made sure to to show up at your favorite haunts more often to see if you'd let on. You never did. In fact, you were the same as you ever were. You are a much better actor when you are in your own body. I decided then that I would play your game. I also saw it as an opportunity to get closer to you. Us Slytherin's never let an opportunity to get what we want pass us by, as you are well aware. 

"At the next gala, I was on the lookout for you. As soon as you walked in and greeted me as Antoinette, I knew it was you. You do this thing with your eyes when you're nervous. I'm sure I threw you off when I studied each guest as they walked in. I prolonged the tour just to watch you try to disguise your annoyance since I knew what you were really here for. By the way, what do you have against ballrooms?

"Anyway, after I led everyone away I gave you a little time before I apparated here. You were already reading, curled up on the couch. I sat down and watched you for some time. Once again, you never even noticed. You should really work on your awareness when you are lost in your books but that's neither here nor there. 

"Tell me, did you know you make all kinds of facial expressions when you read? One could read your book with you by simply reading your face. 

"You purse your lips a certain way when you find something interesting. You bite them when you get lost in a particularly fascinating section. You lick them constantly when you are completely immersed and you don't have a sugar quill or something else ridiculous to suck on when something intrigues you. 

"That has always been maddening. I'd watch you lick your pretty lips over and over and not be able to focus on anything. I'd wonder what your lips tasted like. How your tongue would feel in my mouth.

"Once I was close to buying you a case of the candy and owling it to you anonymously to ensure I'd never have to see you licking your lips again but I knew watching you suck on those instead would be equally if not more distracting. 

"Your scowls are the same no matter what face you have. I could tell me interrupting your time in here annoyed you greatly. Except when I gave you the tour of the library. That was the longest I had ever spoken to you where you just listened and not immediately dismiss me. If I was smart I would have figured out long ago that if I wanted your attention all I had to do was talk about books. 

"Both your false smalls and real smiles are the same too. At one point you gave me an almost genuine smile and I forgot what I was saying. Even from a different face, having that smile pointed at me for the first time was almost my undoing. 

"And last but not least, you always select a load of books instead of just choosing one. Even the way you turn pages is uniquely you. Any and everything you did screamed Granger. I must say it was rathering endearing watching your poor attempts at subterfuge these past months. It heartens me to know there is at least one thing you are subpar at. Well, that and flying."

He finished his wine, undoubtedly parched after his monologue. Hermione could only stare at him dumbfounded with a touch of chagrin at finding out she was absolute rubbish at pretending to be someone else. She realized she was gaping at him and immediately closed her mouth with a snap.

"So you knew it was me before I even stepped into your house at the first gala. You're an absolute git," she said with no bite. She wanted to facepalm herself but she drained her wine instead. He laughed as he reached over and poured the last of the wine into her glass. 

"Don't be cross, Granger. Like I said it was rather fun and endlessly amusing. It was fascinating to see all these different people with your mannerisms. Also, I've quite enjoyed the conversations we've had. To be honest, I was waiting for you to fess up at some point. I thought I was being fairly obvious that I knew, but you never did. I'll admit I got rather impatient today. I couldn't wait any longer. 

"I do have to ask why go through such a complicated process of gaining access to my library when I specifically mentioned, on purpose mind you, that any and all were welcome to come to these parties. 

"It takes at least three weeks to brew polyjuice. A very long and difficult process that even accomplished potioneers have trouble with. The fact that you were able to continually brew a batch that lasted longer than four hours is nothing short of brilliant, I must add. 

"This months brew must be especially potent for here you are still as "Connie" and it's been about six hours. I took my time coming to the library with the hope of finally catching you when it wore off although I should have known you would never allow that to happen. Not with your trusted pocketwatch you are never without. I must say, Granger, you never cease to amaze me."

Hermione was at a loss for words. Her finding out _she_ was the girl he was in love with, giving her a detailed description of her mannerisms, some of which even she wasn't aware of, him asking, for good reason, why she went through such a deceitful route in coming to his home, him saying something she did was brilliant and how she amazed him made the ever turning gears of her mind come to screeching halt. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to say.

"I...well..."she started hesitantly. 

He raised an eyebrow and barked a surprised laugh. "Have I rendered the great Hermione Granger speechless? I would celebrate my victory but its rather hollow when I'm not gloating in your real face," he said, his voice still shaking with mirth. She rolled her eyes making him chuckle dryly. 

"Don't worry about answering. It doesn't matter. Do tell me though, was my library worth such means?"

The shock of being caught and the embarrassment she was wallowing in had finally faded enough for her to be able to form coherent sentences. She could even now see the humour in it all. She scowled at him with no real heat behind it, "Well, obviously. I kept coming back."

"I'm glad. Last question. How much longer before your potion wears off?"

"Why?" she asked, thrown off.

"Because I've wanted to invite Hermione Granger here for quite some time and would rather see her in here rather than Constance Evermore or Matilda Havenshire or Antoinette Studdenmire or Elena Tuttleberg or any of the other people you have come disguised as."

She flushed at his words, feeling a myriad of emotions at the knowledge that he wanted her here. She fumbled for her pocketwatch, her hands trembling with excitement. "Fifteen minutes give or take," she answered, proud that her voice didn't betray her nerves.

"Excellent. Well, do carry on, Connie. I know you're itching to get back to that book I so rudely tore you away from. Shall I have Tipsy fetch another bottle of my ridiculously expensive wine and wait for the effects to wear off so that we may continue our conversation?" he asked, putting on his most charming of smiles and an arched eyebrow. 

Hermione huffed a laugh then shook her head in residual disbelief. She was still reeling from the turn of events and still felt the need to regroup and gather her scattered thoughts. But as she looked into his eyes, warm with amusement and something close to joy, she wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with Malfoy as herself. 

She smiled at him and his smile brightened in turn. 

"That would be lovely, Malfoy."

He grimaced, "Back to Malfoy, are we?"

She rolled her eyes. "Forgive me. _Draco,_ " she amended.

His smile returned as he stood and held his hand out to her. She took it without hesitation, enjoying the familiar jolt of awareness she always received with his touch, and let him lead her back inside to the section she was browsing when he arrived. He kissed her knuckles and released her hand before stepping away to leave her with her books. She immediately pulled out the book she was looking through before and didn't even bat an eye as he chuckled softly. 

She dimly heard him call for Tipsy behind her but she was already immersed in the history of wand making. 

Ten minutes later she felt her body begin to return to normal. Not a moment later she felt a hand gently clasp her arm and turn her around. Malfoy took the book out of her hand and returned it to its place on the shelf. She opened her mouth to protest, she was in the middle of a very fascinating part, but he prevented any complaints as he covered her mouth with his, taking advantage of her parted lips by swiping his tongue gently against hers. 

She sighed and melted into him, prompting him to wind his arm around her waist. He pulled her flush against him and deepened the kiss earning a low moan from her. She felt his lips curve into a smile against hers before he pulled back to look down at her, taking in her flushed face and bruised lips. There was no playfulness on his face, only intense desire that made her catch her breath.

He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. 

"Hello, Hermione," he murmured. 

Her eyes widened at his use of her first name. A feeling of surprised pleasure danced up her spine. She twined her arms around his neck and smiled. A bright, genuine smile. 

"Hello, Draco."

His face went slack for a moment before a dazed smile curled his lips.

"Welcome to my library," he whispered huskily.

She laughed and pulled his head down for another kiss.

"Thank you for having me," she replied against his lips, "I'm very happy to be here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed!
> 
> Did you catch the tiny Easter egg when I mentioned sugar quills? A little nod to The Right Thing to Do by Lovesbitca8. 🥰

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Library Lovers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590536) by [Quokkalicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quokkalicious/pseuds/Quokkalicious)




End file.
